


Premonition

by Lookatallmyships



Category: Puppet Master (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Female Reader, First Meetings, Fluff, Meet-Cute, Reader works at a flower shop, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:27:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25739548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lookatallmyships/pseuds/Lookatallmyships
Summary: Usually he can tell the difference between the two. Portentive dreams have a sort of… other feeling about them. A feeling sort of like a memory, but /“Not here, not yet”/ whispers the tiny corner of Alex’s brain that knows he’s dreaming.
Relationships: Alex Whitaker/Reader, Frank Forrester/Carissa Stamford, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Kudos: 1





	Premonition

**Author's Note:**

> I watched the first Puppet Master movie for the first time two nights ago. At first I though that Alex was a little goofy. I mean, /that hair/, but then he grew on me *shrugs*.

Alex Whitaker makes his living as a psychic whose premonitions usually come in the form of dreams. Perhaps because of his… unique abilities, people tend to be surprised that not all of Alex’s dreams have to do with his work. He is still a human being with a human brain after all, and his brain stores and compartmentalizes information with the aid of dreams just like anyone else.

Usually he can tell the difference between the two. Portentive dreams have a sort of… other feeling about them. A feeling sort of like a memory, but _“Not here, not yet”_ whispers the tiny corner of Alex’s brain that knows he’s dreaming.

His psychic dreams are also usually relevant to him or his situation on some way, usually having to do with himself, or someone he knows, or something that he has been thinking about recently. Unless, of course, they’re sent to him by someone else.

Because of this, Alex doesn’t think anything of it at first when he wakes up one sunny Tuesday morning from a dream about a woman stumbling on her way out of a flower shop, face hidden by the large bouquet in her arms. The last thing he sees before waking up is a pair of (e/c) eyes peering overtop the bunch of flowers.

The dream doesn’t feel significant and Alex is fairly certain that he has never met the woman before, so he hardly spares it a second thought. Instead, he goes about his normal routine of getting ready for the day. After getting dressed and fishing his right shoe out from underneath the bed, Alex gathers his things and heads out the door.

Frank and Carissa are in town for some psychics conference that’s likely to be filled with more fakes and delusional people than those with any true ability, but they like to make a habit of going to these things whenever one pops up.

At this point they know better than to ask Alex if he wants to go walk around a crowded convention hall for hours on end, so they’d settled on getting breakfast the next day at the little sandwich shop on second street that Alex has been meaning to try for ages but never has.

Double checking that the door to his apartment is locked, Alex pockets his keys as he makes his way down to the street. He considers driving over for all of five seconds before deciding to walk. It’s a beautiful day, sunny but with enough of a breeze to keep you cool. The café is only a few blocks away, he’ll just call this his exercise for the day.

It should be nice catching up with Frank and Carissa. It’s been a few months since they last got together, and he’s curious to hear how their research has been going. Alex shakes his head. If they can keep their hands off each other long enough to tell him about it, that is.

About a year ago their little group of four had stayed in a hotel while investigating a man who claimed to be plagued by ghosts. Not their usual gig, but Dana had been curious, so the rest of them thought ‘what the hell’ and went. It wound up being a hoax, but the real downside of the trip had been staying in the room next to Frank and Carissa. After that, Alex had sworn to never stay on the same floor of a hotel as them again if he could help it.

Alex is about a block away from his destination when he hears the jingle of a bell as the door to the store he was just about to pass swings open.

Looking up to see a figure step outside, Alex stops.

A woman with a large bundle of flowers steps down from the slight landing outside of the door, her foot catching on the edge just right to make her stumble.

Seeing what’s about to happen, the psychic darts forward and catches the woman before she fall. He wraps one arm around her waist and uses the other to grab hold of the no doubt expensive bouquet before they can hit the ground.

She makes a noise of surprise and grabs hold of his shoulder to steady herself.

“Are you alright?” Once she’s steady on her feet, Alex takes a polite step back.

“Yes, thank you. I always forget that there’s a step there.” She shifts the bouquet to the side and smiles at Alex.

The sight of a familiar pair of (e/c) eyes makes Alex blink in surprise. The woman is a bit younger than him, maybe in her late twenties to early thirties. Her (h/c) hair is pulled back neatly, and she’s wearing a brown apron with the shop’s name overtop of her clothes.

Alex smiles. “That’s quite the bouquet.”

She nods. “I was just leaving to deliver these to a…” she peers at the little card attached to the bouquet. “Miss Carissa.”

Alex is instantly suspicious, but he figures it must be a coincidence. “That wouldn’t happen to be a Carissa Stamford, would it?”

The woman laughs. “Yes, actually. Do you know her?”

The psychic sighs. Of course, Frank would order flowers to be delivered to his wife while they are out at a restaurant. “I was actually just on my way to have breakfast with Carissa and her boyfriend Frank. We could walk together if you’d like?”

She smiles. “Sure, I’d like that. On one condition, you have to tell me a little bit about yourself while we walk.”

Alex grins. “You drive a hard bargain, but I think I can do that.”

**Author's Note:**

> I took a few liberties with the plot, but nothing too significant. Paul Le Mat was 44 when the first Puppet Master movie came out, so I figured that's how old Alex is. I don't know if his age is officially given anywhere.


End file.
